


Alarmed

by OfficialStarsandGutters



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2014-11-13
Packaged: 2018-02-25 06:56:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2612453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OfficialStarsandGutters/pseuds/OfficialStarsandGutters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim sets off the building fire alarm, and then gets locked out in his pants. His night is not going well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alarmed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seazu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seazu/gifts).



> Loosely based around the "fire alarm went off at 3 am and now the cute guy from the flat next door is standing next to me in his underwear AU". Charlie wanted Jim in his pants.

The blaring of the alarm doesn't bother him too much at first. It's just the alarm in his flat; that's easily fixed. A quick scramble on to the counter, press the button, hey presto! Job done. However, when the smoke seeps under his door and sets the alarm for the building off, well, that's when things become a bit of a problem for Jim.

The landlord is _not_ going to be pleased if he finds out Jim's been doing dangerous experiments again. Especially after he's been warned. Not that he really cares that much about his foolish landlord, but he can't exactly afford anywhere better at the moment, and finding a flat this cheap in London isn't easy. 

Jim cranks open the window to let the smoke out. The alarm won't stop until it's cleared. He dumps the ruined remains of his experiment into a bin bag, ties it up, and quickly pads down the stairs with it. He doesn't consider the fact that he's only in a pair of boxer briefs and a v-neck. He's only popping out to the bin to dispose of the evidence, and he'll disable the alarm on his way back in. No problem.

Except, in his haste, he forgot to lift his keys.

“Fuck.”

Jim curls his arms around himself, trying to fight against the cold, and strategically positions himself between the recycling bins. Thankfully their street is quiet enough, but the door opens right on to it, so Jim is stranded in his pants slap bang in the middle of the footpath.  _Fuck_ .

The alarm is still wailing inside.

He doesn't even have anything to pick the lock with. He's on the verge of diving in to the bin to find something when he spots the man that lives below him– Sebastian Moran, he's seen his name on the letters in the hall– doddling down the street. That's something, at least. He'll be able to get in to the entry hall, and he has a spare key for his door taped beneath the electricity box. Never thought he'd need it, but hey, even Jim Moriarty is wrong sometimes. 

“Jesus.” Sebastian is nearly level with Jim now, and he looks up at their building with a frown. “That coming from us?”

“Yes,” Jim grits out. He folds his arms tighter across his ribs. There are lines of goosebumps along his skin now, and he wants nothing more to get inside and warmed up.

Sebastian properly looks at him for the first time, and there is a moment where a series of emotions flicker across his face. Jim observes them like a film he's seen too many times; familiar, easily recognisable. He goes from surprise to interest, passing confusion on the way, before he settles on amused, a crooked smile tilting his mouth.

“Is it not a bit cold for that?”

“Can you just open the door. I forgot my keys.”

“Shit.” Sebastian's grin falters, and there's a brief spark of concern. He fishes his keys from his pocket, flicking through them to find the right one, before unlocking the door. He holds it open for Jim to pass through first. “You must be freezing.”

Jim slips in past Sebastian without so much as a thanks. He stops at the alarm box; silencing the alarm, then resetting the system. He waits a few seconds. The lights stay off. The smoke must have cleared out by now.

“What happened?”

“Burnt my toast. You know how temperamental that damn alarm is.”

“Yeah. James, isn't it?”

“Jim,” he corrects automatically, tone sharp. 

“Jim, right. Sebastian.” Sebastian holds out his hand. Jim looks at it for a long moment, before accepting a brief shake. Sebastian's hand is warm, calloused, and his shake is firm. “Nice to properly meet you, neighbour.”

“Mm. And you.” Jim waits for Sebastian to go up to his flat, so he can fish out his spare key without giving away its placement. Sebastian doesn't move, but his eyes do flick down over Jim again, doing another take now that they are in better lighting.

“You know, since you're locked out-”

“I'm not. I have a spare key.”

“Oh, well. I was just going to invite you in for a cuppa.”

Jim's eyes narrow fractionally, his jaw tenses, and he considers Sebastian with scrutiny. Sebastian just smiles back easily, clearly unaffected.

“If you're not interested, it's no biggie.”

“I never said I wasn't interested.”

“Right. I'll go put the kettle on, shall I? You can go get trousers, if you prefer, but don't feel obliged on my behalf.”

A smirk curls at the corner of Jim's mouth. Oh, he likes this one. He shifts his stance subtly; moves closer to Sebastian, casually flirtatious.

“Oh, don't worry; I won't.”

They key can wait. Jim's just found himself an interesting way to warm up.

 


End file.
